


Something In The Way She Moves Me

by SaibraRutherford (ScottishVix)



Series: Once We Were [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, My First Fanfic, Please be gentle with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:04:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6475042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScottishVix/pseuds/SaibraRutherford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen likes to watch the Inquisitor in the morning. He doesn't get to do it often enough.</p><p>Cullen's POV of chapter 23 of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6594430">Love in the Time of Corypheus</a></p><p>  <i>Now with art.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Something In The Way She Moves Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first piece of fanfic so please be kind to me, though I'd welcome constructive criticism. 
> 
> It fits in around chapter 23 of [Love in the Time of Corypheus](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6594430), though it was originally written as a one-shot to see if anyone would be interested in reading what I wrote.
> 
> Much love to my beautiful beta, HazelRowan. Mostly for not laughing at me when I messaged her to say willyoubetathefanficijustwrote?

It’s the latent tingle of the last of the lyrium in his blood, singing in response to nearby magic, that wakens him. She used it to light a lamp on the desk. He hates it when she uses her magic for such trivial things. Not when she will have to face Maker knows what on the road. But he knows her untidy mind and even untidier desk. She could never have found the flint in the dark, even with the dim green glow from the Anchor on her hand.

 

She doesn’t know he is awake, and he watches her curiously under his lashes. He so rarely sees her like this. His military training means Cullen is normally the early riser. The fact that whenever she returns to Skyhold she is exhausted doesn’t hurt either. But the trip to the Western Approaches is a long one and her group leaves at dawn.

 

His lyrium sings again, but he cannot grudge her warming the cup of mulled wine she has poured. She is naked, and the soft pad of her bare feet on the cold stone of the floor is the only sound in the world.

 

She seems to glow as she moves quietly around the room in the soft pre-dawn light. Her hair, darker than its usual chestnut in the dim light, flows in unruly waves halfway down her back. He has watched her do it many times but it seems like magic – and it can’t be, because it doesn’t tug at his lyrium – to him how she can tame such a wild river of hair into the neat and proper bun she wears during the day.

 

She moves through the dark room more like a rogue than a mage, naked and glorious, padding back and forward to her pack. She should have filled it last night, but Maker forgive him he couldn’t keep his hands off her, knowing how long she would be away. How long it would be before he could touch her that way again.

 

Finally, she begins to dress, but he still can’t stop watching. The way her hips sway as she pulls soft leather breeches up her legs. The ripple of muscles in her abdomen as she pulls the tight under-tunic over her head. The brief flex of a bicep as she pulled on a single long fingerless glove to hide the glow from her marked hand, only left bare in front of those she trusted the most. The grace of those long fingers flashing through her hair to transform her from the free and gentle spirit of his nights to the dedicated and determined Inquisitor of his days.

 

Her final act is to snap a dull grey band over the pulse in her right wrist. He can see his own matching band, sitting on a trunk with the rest of his armour, flare up, alight with silver runes. He still isn’t sure what to make of the Tevinter mage, but he blesses Dorian every night they are apart for those bands.

 

“I hate it when I put this on and it doesn’t glow.” Her voice is soft, but it carries to him easily in the stillness of the room.

 

He is up, and across the room to the trunk in a moment, snapping his own band on before she can turn. Instantly, her band sparkles with silver runes to match his own. He snakes his bare arms around her from behind catching up her hand so their bands can shimmer next to one another.

 

“It feels silly,” he breathed into her hair, “to wear it when I can see you’re safe. But say the word and I swear I’ll never take it off.”

 

 _As long as the other is being worn and can feel a pulse, yours will glow_ , Dorian had told him. _They are tied to each of you. They will not glow for anyone else._

 

“No,” she whispered. “No need. Just kiss me.”

 

And he did, thanking the Maker for this woman who filled his days with hope and his nights with peace.

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> Look at the beautiful art [IneffableWitch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableWitch) did of Cullen and Saibra!


End file.
